The Art of the Mafia
by Miss Mysterioso
Summary: A murder and a series of robberies bring Amy and Ian together once again. Their task to solve this mystery could turn out to be harder than they thought, though. Not only because the mafia is involved...but because one of them could also be the bad guy.


_**A**_my

"Amy, it has been…what, three years? Since you were part of a mission," Uncle Fiske told me, staring at my report on the Council of Vespers.

I glanced up at him nervously. "W-what do you mean?"

Uncle Fiske sighed. "I know it's hard for you, after…you know, the accident."

I nodded numbly.

"But you're nineteen, now. I think it's time to stop living in fear...and go on a mission."

I gulped, trying to process what Uncle Fiske had just told me.

He wanted me to go on another mission.

He wanted me to risk my life.

He wanted me to risk getting shot again.

I sighed, running a hand through my reddish-brown hair. "But…but I'm already conducting really important researches. If it weren't for my last two reports, the hostages wouldn't be alive now."

Uncle Fiske nodded. "I know, but-"

"Besides, I nearly –no, I _died_ trying to fight against the Vespers," I interrupted him. "I just…I just can't switch my desk for a gun and a 'may God be with you' now."

I know what you are thinking. _What is wrong with you, Amy? You are acting like a coward, declining a chance to help your family defeat the Vespers. The _real_ Amy would never do that –in fact, she wouldn't be sitting in a desk right in this instant. _Sixteen-year-old me would've probably agreed with you.

But after getting shot in the heart and declared dead for thirty seconds, well…your point of view on things changes –quite drastically. Yes, I was shot. After encountering the Wyoming twins in Russia, Cheyenne shot me when I refused to give her the ring. I would go more into detail, but remembering the pain in my chest and desperation I felt after Cheyenne pulled the trigger isn't such an enjoyable memory.

I sighed, resuming my task of researching. "Sorry, Uncle Fiske. But I can't help you with this one."

Uncle Fiske sighed, and suddenly, the door burst open. In staggered Jonah Wizard and Ned Starling, giving me one of the biggest surprises in my life. The last time we had spoken to each other was two months ago…in a five-minute phone call.

"What are you-"

"Come on, Amy. We need you in this one!" Jonah exclaimed, leaning on my desk with a desperate look.

Ned nodded. "We won't let anything happen to you…please, I promise this will be one of the safest missions that you've ever conducted."

My mouth parted open as my two cousins kept begging me to join them in the mission. I actually considered joining them…but just the thought of lying in the ground, paralyzed with pain and unable to do anything made me want to curl up in a ball and hide forever. After a few more seconds, I held up my hand.

I looked at them apologetically. "I'm sorry, guys…but I can't."

Jonah and Ned sighed, opening their mouths to protest. But someone cut them off.

"At least hear what this mission's about."

All of us turned to look at the doorway. A handsome teenager stepped in, a small smirk plastered in his face. He had hazel eyes that contrasted perfectly with his sun-kissed skin and ash brown hair.

"L-luca?" I asked, slowly standing up.

His smirk grew as he glanced at Uncle Fiske. "I'm 100% sure she'll accept the mission, Fiske."

* * *

><p><em><strong>I<strong>_an

"Look at that beauty," Mr. Smiths told me, motioning behind my shoulder.

I smiled knowingly at him before turning around. My eyes widened. The most elaborate and…_exquisite_ painting was hanging in front of my very own eyes. The concept itself was simple –waves crashing down on a rocky beach. It was the way the colors contrasted together, the vibrant aura it gave off that made it a true masterpiece. I walked closer to it, taking in the delicate strokes and the detail of the waves.

Too bad it was hanging among a disastrous show of overly-eye catching dresses and suits that wanted to be original but failed –miserably.

"No wonder why Giovanni wanted it displayed in his brother's party," I mused, not taking my eyes off the painting.

"Only the eye of a true artist would be able to spot the beauty of this portrait."

Mr. Smiths and I turned around to find a smiling Alberto Giovanni –boss of the most famous mafia, the Giovannis.

Knowing that most of you are probably confused by now, let me take a while to enlighten you.

Mr. Smiths, which obviously isn't his real name, has really close ties with the Giovannis. This allowed us to join Boston's most wanted mafia for reasons that are later to be revealed.

The Giovannis are structured just like any other mafia family is. Their Boss, Alberto Giovanni, is the head of everything. His second youngest brother, Gino Giovanni, known for his senseless jokes, is the Underboss or the second-in-command. And the Consigliere, the boss's right-hand man, would be the youngest of the Giovannis, Florencio –who happens to be missing his "wonderful" party.

If it weren't for my mission, I'd probably be sleeping right now.

"Where's Florencio, Alberto?" Mr. Smiths asked confidently, ruffling his salt-and-pepper hair. If any of you've seen those _Return to the Future_ (or something like that) movies, then you can just imagine him as an exact same replica of "Doc".

Alberto glanced around, a confused glint in his eyes. "That's what I'm wondering. Hopefully, he'll be here in any minute with my son. So…what do you think of the party?"

"Lovely," replied Mr. Smiths.

I smiled politely. "Very…er, bright."

Which was true. The golden and yellow color scheme made the party look way too shiny, something that I don't really enjoy.

Mr. Smiths discreetly glared at me, which I shrugged off. One of my New Year's resolutions was to be more honest…when a lie wasn't needed.

To my surprise, Alberto laughed. "My wife has an obsession with gold."

I was about to reply when someone bumped in my shoulder, causing me to spill my drink.

"Oh my God…sorry."

In other circumstances, I wouldn't have turned around. But the woman's voice seemed eerily familiar.

My eyes slightly widened once I found Amy Cahill behind me.

She smiled, inspecting my face. "Ian?"

I couldn't help but smile back. "Amy. Never thought I'd find you in a party such as this one."

Jonah and one of the Starling twins appeared behind her, with some nineteen-year-old I didn't recognize. So they were in a mission. I glanced at Amy once more. She looked lov-_nice_…but that wasn't the reason why I'd looked at her. After she had been shot while fighting the Vespers, I never thought I'd see her back in action. Guess she is braver than I imagined.

"Amy! Well, I'm glad I get to meet you once again," Alberto exclaimed in his thick Italian accent.

I frowned. "You two know each other?"

Alberto chuckled, placing a hand around the unknown boy's shoulder. "Of course. She dated my son, Luca, for a while! Luca, this is Ian Kabra and Mr. Smith, close friends of the family."

The boy –Luca –smiled at me, holding his drink up. "Nice meeting you."

I smiled politely, even though I didn't feel like doing so. I glanced at Amy, who was inspecting the room, her eyes wide. She was obviously trying to avoid my questioning gaze.

Before I could say anything else, though, a loud _bang _interrupted me.

A gun shot.

Everybody screamed as they began to run around in desperation. I ducked and turned to Amy, but Ned and Jonah were already dragging her now pale body under a table.

I glanced at Mr. Smiths and muttered nervously. "It isn't time yet."

Another shot went off as Mr. Smiths shrugged, his brown eyes wide with fear. "This things can't be predicted!"

Alberto got out his gun, inspecting the room.

Instead of another shot, though, someone cried out, "_Florencio!_"

I turned around, and the uncomfortable feeling that I usually get whenever I see a dead body bubbled inside me.

Florencio lay dead on the marble floor, two shots in his chest.

And the beautiful painting that was supposed to be hanging on the wall to his back? Missing.

To my surprise, Amy gasped next to me. She quickly ran toward the body, Ned and Jonah following behind.

"Aren't you going to call 911?" she asked to no one in particular, a desperate tone in her voice.

I walked over, sighing. It was too late, anyways.

* * *

><p><strong><em>A<em>**uthor's **_N_**ote: Hey, guys! Thanks for reading my story. Hopefully, you enjoyed the first chapter. As if you haven't noticed, this is my first time writing in FF, so if you're planning to review, tips for new writers are welcome :) Also, just to make it clear, Ian was referring to the _Back to the Future_ trilogy. If you haven't seen it, I strongly recommend them! Trust me, you'll love them.

_**W**_arning: If I don't update in another week or so, it isn't because I won't continue this. I just have teachers who enjoy giving you ten reports and five tests to study for...all due the next day :/ *sigh* Teachers...


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